Hetalia Short Stories
by Celeste Crilay
Summary: An assortment of pairings, most of the stories include: rape, violence, character death, torture, and BL. Enjoy! Spamano, Russia/Italy, America/Prussia, NorwayxDenmark/Sweden
1. Spamano

I felt the Spaniard's hot gaze on my back. I knew it was him. There was no one else on this damned ship who smelled of tomatoes and wine. I braced myself, turning to look at the Pirate.  
"What do you fucking want?" I spat at him, holding the mop to the side. "/Captain/."  
My heart beat sped up as his face broke out into a dark smirk. I knew what that smirk meant. That smirk was always the thing that meant I would leave his office bruised, beaten, and angry. I scowled back at him, not letting my fear past my pissed-off mask.  
I stepped closer to him, jabbing a finger at his chest. "What are /you/ smirking for, Pirate?"  
The Captain's smirk only grew. He stepped closer to me, grabbing my wrists. My mop fell onto the deck as he turned and jerked me forward. As he pulled me to his cabin, I knew I had made a big mistake. This Pirate had never taken me to his cabin when punishing me. He had never taken any of the crew members in his personal cabin for punishment.  
My breathing picked up, my façade fading as we approached his door. I looked up at him, seeing that his smirk had faded. My eyes widened lightly as I saw that his smirk had been replaced with a frown. He glanced around upon opening his door; the Captain quickly pushed my into his cabin, causing me to stumble to the floor.  
I landed on my back. "Oi! What the hell was tha-"  
I was cut off as he kicked the door closed, getting down in the floor and crawling on top of me. I looked up at him with a deep scowl, wondering what on earth this Spaniard was doing. The Captain hovered his face in front of mine, his smirk quickly returning.  
"Lovino, " he purred. "Do you know why I brought you in here?"  
I glared at him, slowly shaking my head. His face leaned closer at that. I stiffened as I felt a finger slide under the hem of my pants. A deep chuckle surrounded the two of us as his other hand slid up my shirt.  
The Captain leaned closer, biting my ear harshly before whispering in it. "I haven't had a good fuck in a while, Lovi~."  
I felt my eyes widen, his hands taking my shock as an invitation to slide closer to their targets. One hand ran up over my nipples, taking one between its fingers and flicking lightly. I bit back a moan as he began to tweak it.  
My eyes must have shown that I was enjoying this, so the Captain pulled away. He stood up, adjusting his jacket and heading toward the door. I scrambled to get up, grabbing his arm in the process.  
"C-captai-"  
He interrupted. "Call me Antonio."  
His smirk was a smug one as he turned and walked back to me. I tried to back away from him, only succeeding in tripping and falling back onto the bed. Antonio tutted, sliding off his jacket and tossing it at a chair. He threw his hat over as well, grabbing my wrist as I attempted to escape. He grabbed a rope from his table, grabbing my other wrist and flipping me over onto my back.  
I looked around, anxious to find a way to get out of this. I was /not/ losing that to something like this man. I refused to have something like that taken by a Pirate. I saw a knife laying on a stool nearby but realized that Antonio was much stronger than I and would easily be able to keep me from getting it.  
I felt a rough thing surround my wrists, tightening painfully. I squirmed slightly, only succeeding in making the rope tighter as he tied me to the headboard. I stared at him in horror as he snatched the knife I had spotted earlier and as he approached me. He leaned across my chest and sliced up my shirt, pulling it away and throwing it in the floor. I gasped lightly as I felt the blade scrape lightly against my skin.  
The cold metal of the blade pressed against my stomach, running along it lightly. I let out a hiss between gritted teeth as it sliced into my skin. I shut my eyes tight as I felt him crawl onto the bed.  
"Now, for the fun," he growled, slicing down the front of my pants  
I let out a hiss of pain as the knife ran along my member. He chuckled, pulling away the remainders of my pants and tossing them to the side. My eyes shot open as I felt his calloused hands run down my length. I growled at him, jerking my arms in an attempt to break the rope.  
"What are you doing, bastard?!" ai pulled at the rope restraining me again. "Let me go!"  
He tutted at me, running his nail down my member. I let out a soft whine, cursing myself at showing him any weakness. I knew what was coming, and I didn't like it. My eyes widened as I saw him pull off his own pants, revealing his own member. My cheeks began to grow hot, and I tried to look away, only to have my chin grabbed. Antonio pulled my face closer to his. I glared at him as he began to smirk; quickly my glare disappeared, turning into a look of utter fear as I felt something prod at my entrance. I squirmed lightly, only causing the knife to cut my entrance. I yelped loudly as he pushed he knife in further.  
"Oh, Lovi~, you shouldn't move. If you move, it'll only hurt worse."  
I glared at him, nearly screaming in pain and anger as he pushed it in more. I let out a hiss of pain as he pulled it out slowly, digging the dagger deeper into my skin. I felt blood roll down my skin as it finally came out. He tossed the dagger to the side as he got up.  
I watched, anger boiling up inside of me, as he made his way to a desk. Antonio pulled out a little vial of oil from the desk drawer, turning back to me as he poured it over his hands. I tried not to watch as he took his member in one hand, coating it in the oil. The bed sunk slightly as he crawled back on top of me. I glared up at him as I felt a finger prod at my entrance. He leaned down to hover beside my ear.  
"Your screams of pain and pleasure will determine if you live past tonight or not~."  
My eyes widened for a split second as he pulled away. I opened my mouth to snap at him, only to have a gasp come out as he slid into me.


	2. SwedenNorway

The Swedish man let his stoney gaze fall on the bloodied body of Norway. The country could't move after the beating, only barely breathing. The brutality Sweden had shown had taken its toll on the smaller nation.

Now, countries cannot die, but they can fade. For a country to die is unspeakable, foreign to these people. However, if a country does die, it has to be at the hand of another country. This was known only because that was how the Roman Empire had fallen. Rome had been killed by another of his kind.

Norway knew that if the man hovering above his broken body, axe in hand, didn't stop soon, he would suffer the same fate as Rome had. He didn't want this. Norway didn't want to die. He opened his mouth, ready to scream for Denmark, that stupid, useless, beautiful Dane, to come save him. His voice came out as a croak, not even even sounding like Mathias's name.

Sweden kept his stoic gaze settled on Norway as he tried to call out yet again for Denmark. Denmark, the one who would not come to his aid, the one who was already dead. He felt his mouth quirk upward at the edges as he remembered the way it felt to murder the Dane. The way it felt to have the Danish blood roll across his skin.

Sweden shook his head, returning his hardened gaze to Norway. This time he would finish him for sure. Norway croaked out Denmark's name again, straining to pull himself up into a sitting position. Sweden raised the axe, mumbling out a few words.

" 'ny l'st w'rds?"

Norway felt his body shake as he looked up at the man who was once a brother to him as they were raised together by Scandinavia. His eyes caught Sweden's, narrowing at the man. He opened his mouth, hacking up blood before he could manage any words.

He kept his glare and spat a glob of the blood at the taller, hitting him square on the cheek. "F-Fuck you, and.."

"I… I love you, Denmark," he muttered quietly before holding his head down to accept his fate.

Sweden frowned deeper, as he swung the axe down on Norway's neck, a thud resounding throughout the room. The country's head rolled off to the side, a peaceful look frozen on his face from the last moment before his death. He had heard the voice echoing off in the distance, as if it was speaking from another dimension. The voice he had pretended to hate for so many years yet loved so dearly to hear.

"Damn, Norge! You really love me?"


	3. PrussiaAmerica

The darkness enveloped the basement, radiating from the cold walls. Flickering candles set on a table in the middle of the room were the only light source to the two males. A small whimper bounced around the room.  
The Russian man snapped the shackle closed over the brunette's wrist with a gleeful grin. He ran a finger down the boy's bare arm, trailing it down to his chin. Ivan took the teen's chin in his hand, squeezing lightly.  
"If you be a good little boy, I may go easy on you," the man hissed, lifting Feliciano's face up.  
The Italian shook, tugging at the shackles that chained him to the concrete wall. His auburn eyes shone with fear, tears threatening to spill. He looked the taller man in the eye, pleading with him.  
"P-please, let m-me go!"  
Ivan tutted, walking over to a cabinet with surprising grace for one of his size. He unlocked the cabinet quickly, running his fingers down a whip before answering the Italian.  
"I'm afraid I can't do that, little Italian."  
The fair-haired man plucked the whip from the cabinet, holding it securely in his fist as he turned back to look at Feliciano. His violet eyes shone with malice as he grinned; Ivan's footsteps echoed throughout the basement as he made his way back to the chained teen. The brunette let out a whine as Ivan snapped the whip against the stone floor.  
"Now, where shall I begin?" he mused, running a nail down the Italian's body.  
He ran it down Feliciano's chest a second time. "Here? Yes, this seems like a good place to start."  
Ivan stepped away, his eyes darkening as he cracked the whip across Feliciano's chest. A scream of pain ripped from the Italian boy's lungs, reverberating around the room. Ivan's grin grew as he cracked the whip a second time across the line he had created. Blood-curdling screams filled Ivan's ears, fueling him to go harder.  
As Feliciano's screams began to weaken, the Russian stepped away, a frown forming on his lips. He turned on his heel and walked back to the cabinet.  
"I've grown tired of this toy," he murmured, scanning his arrayment of weapons. "I believe I should pick something a bit more… /fun/."  
Ivan picked up an old dagger, feeling the rough edges with his finger before turning back to the Italian. He looked Feliciano up and down, his grin growing at the sight of fresh blood rolling down the teen's tanned skin.  
"Now, where were we?" Ivan growled, making his way back over to the quivering Italian.


	4. RussiaItaly

The smell of burning flesh floated throughout the room, filling my nostrils as I turned my attention back to the blonde man. I smirked as I ran my eyes down the chain that connected the two of us. I jerked it hard, relishing in the cry that came from the American boy as the spikes around his throat tightened. My smirk grew as the blonde's hands automatically shot up, attempting to tug at the spiked chain.  
I tutted lightly, raising my whip and striking him across the back. The boy fell to the bloodied floor, letting out a soft whine. He lifted his head, looking up at me. I growled at the defiance that sparkled in those deep blue eyes.  
"Did I /tell/ you to look at me, slave?!" I hissed, jerking the chain harder as I cracked the whip against his thighs.  
The cry that escaped the American boy's lips caused my own to curl up. I knelt down, pulling him up by the chain to make him eye level with me. I grinned darkly at the blood rolling down his cheek, leaning closer to lick it up before pushing him back hard. Alfred fell to the ground, gasping as his head cracked against the concrete.  
"G-Gil-bert, s-stop thi-is," he grunted out, attempting to push himself up.  
I stepped closer and pushed the heel of my boot up into his ribs. I growled at him, cracking my whip across his cheek. I pressed my heel in harder as I leaned down.  
"I do not take orders from a slave."  
I yanked his chain, grinning at the scream that ripped from him as the weight of my foot cracked a rib. I removed my foot, stepping away to circle the boy as an animal circles its prey. The crack of my whip against his chest echoed around the room before I tossed the whip to the side. I held tight to the chain as I made my way to the table that held my toys. I plucked a device from my table and carried it back to the American boy.  
"Would you like your death to be slow?" I questioned, kneeling down and pressing my knee into his chest. I ran the dagger down his side, licking my lips at the blood that bloomed along its path. "Or painful?"


End file.
